


That's a wrap.

by millygal



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: The cast sit and contemplate the end of season twelve, and the possibilities for thirteen.





	That's a wrap.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JJ1564](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/gifts).



> Finale Spoilers. My own speculations. (PLEASE if anyone's gotten spoilers about 13 don't put them in comments, not everyone is a spoiler whore like me!)  
> A/N: No real reason other than the fact I think they probably did something like this! Thanks to miss jj1564 for her beta and patience. <3

Jensen sits in his trailer, surrounded by leftover food cartons and beer bottles, refusing to clean up a mess he didn’t make, and not having the energy to drag his friend’s ass over the coals for leaving such a tornado of disgusting crap behind.

“Fuck me, that was hard work.”

A long drawn out breath signals Jensen’s serious need for sleep and he’s about to slide sideways on the couch when he hears the familiar sound of Jared stumbling through the door.

“Hey, Jen. Room for a little one?”

“If you’re little, I’m a Hobbit.”

Jared’s answering smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which are red rimmed and puffy. “You tired? _I’m tired_.”

Jensen scoots over, allowing Jared to fold his huge frame into the small empty space on the couch, and lifts his arm without thinking.

Jared curls into Jensen’s side and coughs before nuzzling against his ribs, causing the older man to chuckle and bat at his best friend’s head.

“Stop it, moron.”

“Seriously, are you tired, because I could sleep - for a week - without food breaks.”

Jensen regards the crown of Jared’s head in shock. Jared’s never missed a meal in his life, he’s even invented a few new ones throughout the day. In fact - if anyone’s a Hobbit...

Jensen nods before realising Jared won’t be able to see him. “Yeah, hell yeah. Is it me or was that one _harder_ than most?”

Just as Jared’s about to answer there’s a tap on the door.

“Enter if you have alcohol.”

Misha’s head pokes into the trailer, swiftly followed by Mark’s face sneaking in under his friend’s chin. They both grin before pulling away and pushing two bottles of single malt scotch into the room. “This do?”

Jensen huffs a laugh that blows Jared’s hair into his eyes. “Come on in if you’re comin’.”

Misha trips up the steps and lands flat on his ass, only narrowly missing dropping the bottle in his hands.

“Graceful as always, Collins.”

“Don’t hurt the booze.”

“You ever _not_ fallen into a room, Misha?”

Misha watches Mark step over him and shakes his head before taking the proffered hand being waggled in his face. “You’re all assholes and I hate you.”

Mark squeezes Misha’s hand and yanks him to his feet then lets his friend’s fingers drop and throws himself into the beanbag chair tucked in the corner of the room. “So, who else feels like they just got run over by a truck?”

Misha cracks the top of the bottle he’s still gripping like it’ll grow wings and fly away, and snatches four glasses from the sideboard. “Several trucks. A convoy, maybe.”

Jared repositions himself so his face isn’t tucked into Jensen’s ribs and nods vigorously at Misha who’s handing Mark his overly generous two-fingers of scotch and paying absolutely no attention to the fact that two giant manly Texans are hugging each other.

“Did we really just wrap on season twelve? **Twelve**. This is our lives, people.”

Mark chuckles at Jared’s bewilderment and tilts his head. “It’s your lives, me and the pillock over there, we’re done.”

“Everyone works more when they’re dead on this show.”

Mark, Jared, Misha and Jensen all lean forward and chink glasses before downing the amber liquid within.

Jensen grimaces and wipes his mouth. “Here’s hopin’ the writers remember that for next year. Pleasure doin’ business with you, boys.”

Misha smiles softly at his friends, friends who only a few years ago were just work colleagues, and refills his own glass before topping everyone else’s off. “Hear hear. . And hey, there’s always alternate reality me, right?”

Jensen snorts and sips at his drink before shunting Jared upright and clapping his hands together. “And there we were thinkin’ we’d gotten rid of your soppy ass.”

Mark pats Jared on the knee and smiles at him. “Whatever they come up with, we still have the cons, don’t think you’re getting shot of us that easily.”

“You think it’s too late to call Daniela and cancel JiB?”

Jared winces as Mark thwacks him around the back of the head, and the sound of Jensen and Misha’s laughter can be heard all the way onto the soundstage where crew members carefully and concisely pack away the props and sets ready for next season.

Jeremy and Eric sit quietly in their trailer, pad of paper and a pen resting on the desk between them, grinning at each other over the sound of their cast laughing, loudly. “Season thirteen, here we come.”

 

 

Fin.


End file.
